


Hiding in the Trashcans (Something’s Waiting to Pounce)

by Rumpleteazer



Category: Cats - Andrew Lloyd Webber
Genre: (because typing and reading mistoffelees over and over takes too long), (the animals are zombies), Babysitting, Don't copy to another site, Gen, Horror, Magic, Mr. Mistoffelees is Quaxo (Cats), Necromancy, Previous Animal Death, Zombies, none of the cats are zombies don't worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:22:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27297844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rumpleteazer/pseuds/Rumpleteazer
Summary: “Quaxo. What’s the one thing I asked you not to do while watching Jemima.”“…Raise the dead.”“And what did you do?”“Raised the dead.” Quaxo and Jemima admitted together.Munkustrap pinched the bridge of his nose. “I really don’t know what I expected.”
Relationships: Mr. Mistoffelees & Jemima, Mr. Mistoffelees & Munkustrap (Cats), Mr. Mistoffelees/Rum Tum Tugger (Cats), Munkustrap & Jemima, Munkustrap & Rum Tum Tugger, Other Relationships - mentioned, Rum Tum Tugger & Jemima
Comments: 6
Kudos: 56





	Hiding in the Trashcans (Something’s Waiting to Pounce)

As Tugger and Quaxo lay, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping.

“It’s your brother,” Quaxo murmured into Tugger’s fur.

“I’m not home; he can come back later.” Tugger wrapped a front paw around Quaxo, pulling him closer.

The rapping persisted. “Tuggs? You there?”

“I could just teleport over there, you know,” Quaxo teased, though he didn’t move either.

“Fiiiine.” Tugger reluctantly stood up.

Quaxo stood as well, giving him a nuzzle.

Tugger pushed the cat door open nonchalantly. “Hey Munk, what’s up?”

“Tugger, could you-oh, good evening, Quaxo.” Munkustrap nodded to Quaxo, who nodded cordially back.

“Good evening to you too,” snipped Tugger.

“Good evening, Tugger,” Munkustrap corrected. “I’m glad I found you here, I checked your den first. Are your humans home?”

Something shifted behind Munkustrap as he spoke, surprising Quaxo.

“They aren’t. What do you need, Munk?” Tugger asked.

“I was wondering if you two could watch Jem tonight?”

Jemima poked her head around her father’s side, smiling brightly.

Quaxo lit up, and Tugger immediately softened.

“I know it’s last minute. Demeter, Alonzo, Bomba, and I realized that none of us have watch duty scheduled tonight, and it’s been a really long time since we’ve had a date with all four of us.”

Tugger resisted pointing out who made the schedule. He was capable of tact sometimes. “Sure, I don’t mind. Do you, Sparkles?”

“Of course not.” Quaxo smiled at Jemima. “We’d be honored to have such a talented magician stay with us.”

Jemima giggled, climbing through the cat door. Then she gasped. “Could you give me a magic lesson tonight?”

“I would love to, but we should ask your dad.”

Jemima turned her large, disarming eyes to Munkustrap, who smiled.

“Sure you can, sweetheart.” He looked meaningfully at Quaxo. “Just a simple one, okay? Don’t…raise the dead, or something.” 

Quaxo raised his front paws in mock surrender. “We’ll work on levitating spoons, how does that sound?” He looked from Munkustrap to Jemima and back.

Munkustrap nodded. “That would be perfect.”

Jemima hugged her father, beaming. “Thanks daddy!”

Munkustrap nuzzled Jemima. “You’re welcome.” He glanced back at Tugger and Quaxo. “And thanks for watching her, you two.”

“Don’t worry about it, you deserve a break.” Watching how enthusiastic his mate and his niece were about magic was making Tugger all mushy, even if the mention of “raising the dead” made him a bit on-edge.

Munkustrap smiled at him, touched, then turned back to Jemima. “You be good for Uncle Tugger and Quaxo, now. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I will! I love you daddy!”

“Love you too, Jemstone.” Munkustrap kissed Jemima on the forehead, then left.

Jemima waved out the door until he was out of sight.

“Well, Jem, what do you want to do first?” Tugger asked.

Jemima turned to them, perfectly innocent save for a glint in her eye that made Tugger nervous. She pounced on Quaxo. “Can you really raise the dead?”

“Um, well,” Quaxo stammered.

Behind Jemima, Tugger waved his paws in a frantic “no” gesture.

“I…not really?”

“Oh.” Jemima slid off him, ears drooping.

“Reanimation is difficult and very complicated. We’ll start with the spoons tonight and maybe work up to that sometime, all right?” Quaxo winked.

She brightened. “Ok!”

“Please don’t,” said Tugger.

Jemima and Quaxo giggled.

Tugger groaned dramatically, making them laugh harder. He smiled.

“Now,” said Quaxo to Jemima, “You’ve been practicing hiding your aura, haven’t you?”

“I have! Am I getting better?”

“You’re doing fantastic! I didn’t even know you were there tonight!” Quaxo praised.

“Did you know my dad was there?”

“I did,” Quaxo leaned in and stage whispered conspiratorially, “his aura is very noticeable.”

Jemima laughed, and so did Tugger.

“Magic lesson first,” Jemima declared after she settled down.

“You’re the boss,” Tugger grinned, bowing her into the house.

———

While Quaxo’s fur sparked when he used magic, Jemima’s eyes glowed uncannily. It used to freak Tugger out a little, but he didn’t want her to think he was afraid of her and forced himself to get used to it.

Jemima showed as much progress with object levitation as she did aura control. She was able to levitate two spoons at once, to everyone’s delight.

They moved on to magically opening doors. Jemima just managed to rattle them when practice was cut short by a large fly entering the room, right past Tugger’s head. He chased it between Quaxo and Jemima, and they enthusiastically joined him in the hunt.

The fly sped upward. Quaxo and Tugger both jumped for it, crashing into each other and back to the floor as the fly slipped away.

Undeterred, Jemima skidded around them and pounced on the fly, killing it.

“Great job, Jem!”

“You got it!”

Tugger and Quaxo cheered, untangling themselves.

Jemima carefully picked up the fly in her teeth and dropped it next to them. “So…Quaxo.”

“Yes?” Quaxo replied carefully.

“What if we reanimated this fly?” Jemima asked, a little too eagerly.

“Uh,” said Quaxo.

“Ohhh no,” Tugger said at the same time.

“It’s only a fly,” said Jemima. “Please? You said we’d work up to it.”

“I did say that, didn’t I,” considered Quaxo, crumbling under Jemima’s hopeful gaze.

“I see where this is going. If you’re doing that creepy stuff in here I’m leaving,” Tugger declared, heading for the door.

“I promised your father?” Quaxo tried.

Jemima shook her head. “You didn’t though!”

“All right.” Quaxo gave in to the kitten eyes. “We can try. But,” he held up a paw, “only for a short time. And don’t tell Munkustrap.”

Jemima hugged him, beaming. “I won’t!”

“No promises,” called Tugger over his shoulder, before hopping out of the cat door into the backyard.

Quaxo laughed, quiet and fond. If Tugger told on them they would deserve it. If he didn’t, and it worked, Quaxo might tell on himself. This was a bad idea. Then again, he _was_ curious. “Let’s go back to the kitchen,” he told Jemima, following Tugger. “That’s where the herbs are, and the floor is easier to clean there.”

“Couldn’t you magic any mess away?” Jemima asked around the fly.

“It’s still easier.” Quaxo opened the pantry door. “Don’t talk with your mouth full,” he added as an afterthought.

Jemima dropped the fly and waited patiently as Quaxo dug through the pantry, hopping from shelf to shelf finding various spice jars. “Will this be like when I talk to ghosts?” She asked, when he finally jumped down again.

“Not really.” Quaxo laid out the ingredients and got to work drawing an intricate circle pattern on the floor. “They’re the same school of magic, but with entirely different results.”

Tugger stuck his head through the cat door to watch, despite himself. “Why do you have this spell memorized?”

“I’m very thorough with my studies,” Quaxo answered vaguely. “Feel safer out there?”

“Lots.”

“Good.” Quaxo placed the last small pile of herbs. “Because it's ready.”

Jemima clapped excitedly.

Tugger chickened out, ducking back outside.

“And now, the words.” Quaxo’s fur sparked in earnest as he intoned the spell.

Magic exploded out from the circle, blowing Quaxo and Jemima’s fur back as if in a storm. All the lights in the house flickered.

“What was _that?_ ” Tugger called when the magic subsided.

“That,” said Quaxo, breathless, “was far stronger than I wanted it to be.”

The newly undead fly rose upwards in a lazy, anticlimactic spiral.

“What does that mean?” asked Tugger, panicked, head back inside the door.

“It means hopefully there aren’t any more dead things in or around the house,” Quaxo answered blankly. It was a futile hope. The property was on the edge of woods.

Tugger whined and retreated back outside.

Jemima watched the zombie fly as it flew in clumsy circles around her head.

Quaxo watched too, with fascination, horror, and a creeping sense of pride he would have to address later.

There was a loud bang from the kitchen window, snapping Jemima and Quaxo out of their trance.

“What was that?” Jemima asked.

Quaxo squinted. The glare from the kitchen light made it impossible to see outside. “…Probably the wind,” he decided. “There’s a tree by that window.”

Jemima noticed she had lost the zombie fly and wandered off to find it.

Tugger shrieked and crashed back through the cat door, fur standing on end. He ran through the kitchen to the family room and scrambled behind the nearest armchair.

Quaxo ran after him. “Tugger! What’s-”

“There’s something out there!”

“What?” Jemima asked, emerging from the hallway.

“I mostly saw shadows,” Tugger stammered, “like mice, or birds, but they smelled wrong!”

Quaxo rubbed Tugger’s shoulder and tried to remain calm. “Were the shadows going in a particular direction?” He avoided saying “towards the house.” He didn’t want to cause more panic.

“I don’t know! They were coming from the woods.” Tugger faced Quaxo, suddenly serious. “Quaxo. They smelled-”

He was interrupted as something hit a window behind them.

They all jumped, Tugger letting out a strangled yelp.

Jemima scrambled up the sofa to the window with Quaxo close behind. Tugger joined them, not wanting to be alone. Together they peered out into the gloom.

“Around how many shadows did you see?” Quaxo asked, unsure why he was whispering.

“I didn’t stick around to count them!” Tugger answered, slightly louder.

Quaxo nodded. “Okay. I’m going to say the reversal spell now.”

“Already?” Jemima asked, disappointed.

“Yes, already.” Quaxo turned back to the kitchen.

Something flew into the window a second time. Tugger shrank back, ears flat against his head. Quaxo hissed involuntarily.

It was a bat, and it appeared to be decomposing even as it moved.

“Woah…” Jemima whispered, awed.

“What’s wrong with it?” Tugger asked, voice wavering.

Quaxo swallowed. “I think it’s dead.”

Tugger swayed, almost falling off the sofa. “Of course,” he groaned.

Quaxo held him steady, concerned. “I thought a tree branch hit the kitchen window earlier, but now…” he trailed off uneasily.

The bat inelegantly attacked the window again. Quaxo and Tugger held each other a little tighter.

There was a clatter from the kitchen. Jemima briefly considered the other two, then ran to investigate.

“Jem!” Tugger nearly shouted, leaping off the sofa after her.

“Jemima!” Quaxo quickly overtook Tugger, but slid to a stop in shock at the sight that greeted him.

Jemima was watching with curiosity as what was once a chipmunk limped towards her. Beyond them, a robin hopped clumsily through the cat door. It was missing several feathers and its head was almost entirely skeletal. More zombies.

Jemima squeaked in surprise when Tugger grabbed her and ran back the way he came.

Quaxo shook himself out of it as they passed and followed them.

An animal struck the middle window as they reached the family room. Tugger startled backward into the kitchen island, pulling Jemima with him and crashing into Quaxo. He leaned heavily against the island, dazed.

Jemima struggled out of his grip. “What did you do that for? It wasn’t doing anything! It was kind of cute.”

“Shh!” whispered Quaxo, worried by Tugger’s vacant expression on top of everything else. He lightly took Tugger’s arm in an attempt to ground him.

“Why-why are they in the house?” Tugger managed to whisper.

“They must be attracted to the source of the spell,” Quaxo replied guiltily.

“To the circle?” Tugger’s wild eyes met Quaxo’s, “Or to you?”

Quaxo felt the blood drain from his face. “I don’t-”

A raven hit the window next to them with force, and they all flinched away from it and into each other. It began pecking the window intently.

“We can’t stay here,” Quaxo whispered when he found his voice again. “I need to undo this.”

“Can't you say the spell now?” Jemima whispered.

“First we need to get past the…the zombies and back into the kitchen.”

Jemima nodded gravely and started to walk around the island.

“Not yet!” Quaxo pulled her back to him with the paw not holding Tugger, who had gone uncharacteristically still and silent. “Are they looking for us?”

Jemima scrunched up her face. “They’re not really doing anything in there, not like this one,” she gestured to the raven.

As if on cue, the raven managed to chip the glass. With the next strike its beak fell off. It paused for a moment, then continued to smack its beak-less face into the window.

With a pathetic whimper, Tugger fainted.

Jemima gasped, and tried to help Quaxo support Tugger’s limp form.

Quaxo’s mind went blank with terror for a split second, then he shifted his front legs under Tugger’s and whispered urgently to Jemima. “Jemima listen to me. You run for that door when I say go, okay?” The door to the coat closet swung open silently as he spoke.

“What about Uncle Tugger?”

“I’ll bring him. Get ready to run.” With a flick of his ear, something clattered to the floor in the pantry. Making sure the zombies were distracted by the sound, including the rat currently climbing through the cat door, Quaxo whispered, “Go! Now!”

Jemima bolted for the door. Quaxo followed, dragging Tugger with him and keeping an eye on the zombies. The robin turned back to them, but he had already passed through the door and with a shake of his head it slammed shut. With another the light switched on. They all could see in the dark, but the light was comforting.

Quaxo laid Tugger out on the floor and fanned his face with a paw. Tugger began to rouse, and Quaxo released a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

“You were right,” Jemima said, breaking the silence, “this isn’t like when I talk to ghosts at all. I couldn’t sense any auras.”

“No,” Quaxo agreed grimly. “A ghost is a disembodied soul, essentially nothing but aura. They’ll still behave similarly to who they used to be. A zombie is a body without a soul, and without an aura. They have no memories or personality. They’re only instinct.” The spider he killed in the closet yesterday skittered under the door on three legs. He shuddered.

Jemima hugged Quaxo, not because she was scared, but because he was. Quaxo held her close, focusing on her and Tugger’s breathing.

Tugger opened his eyes.

Quaxo was at his side instantly. “Tugger?” He asked softly.

“Mmmyeah?”

Quaxo could have cried in relief. “Welcome back.”

“Are you okay, Uncle Tugger?”

“I don’t know,” Tugger blinked, frowning. “…Are we in the hall closet?”

“Not my best escape plan,” Quaxo said wryly, helping Tugger sit up. “I might have panicked a bit when you collapsed.” He gave him a tentative nuzzle.

Tugger accepted the nuzzle for a moment, then shook out his mane forcing Quaxo to jump back.

“I’m sorry I insisted on zombies,” Jemima blurted out.

“And I’m so sorry I agreed,” Quaxo added. “I guess I was the one too curious for his own good this time.”

Tugger sighed. “Luckily for you both, I love you. It’s not like I don’t know how creepy you get sometimes. You can make it up to me by getting rid of them. You do have a plan, right? I don’t want to be in the closet forever.”

“I know the spell to end it…”

“But?” prompted Tugger, resigned.

“I need to use the same circle.”

“So we have to go back to the kitchen for more herbs,” said Tugger flatly.

“Unfortunately yes,” said Quaxo, “However I won’t need to get more herbs, or even draw another circle.”

“Why not?” asked Jemima.

“I don’t know why that one was so strong, so reusing it is the best way to be sure it will affect all of them.”

“But that means we’ll have to be in the kitchen with them longer, when we don’t even know how to get past them in the first place…” Tugger paused. His brow furrowed. “Was the dining room door closed?”

“I didn’t notice,” said Jemima.

“It was,” said Quaxo, “why?”

“We could sneak around that way,” Tugger explained reluctantly.

“Tugger, you’re brilliant!” Quaxo exclaimed.

“Thanks. Let’s get this over with,” sighed Tugger, standing up.

Feeling responsible for the whole situation, Quaxo took the lead. He slowly pushed the door open and peeked into the hallway. The raven was still battering the window, but nothing inside the house could see them. So they _weren’t_ looking for him. Good. “Coast is clear,” he whispered.

Quickly they crept past the stairs and into the dining room.

Quaxo peered under the kitchen door. He wrinkled his nose; the house was starting to smell like death.

A couple of mice, a large dove, and several bugs all in varying states of decay had joined the other zombies, but as Quaxo watched them he realized they really weren’t behaving maliciously. All of them were slowly gathering around the magic circle, never crossing it. He relayed this information to the others.

“Why are there so many dead animals around this house?” Tugger whispered shrilly.

“The woods, I suspect,” said Quaxo. “I have to reverse this soon or there will just be more.” He scratched his ear. “We need to get them away from the circle. Jemima, do you think you could rattle a few things around the kitchen as a distraction? I need all my magic for the spell.”

“I’ll do my best,” Jemima agreed, determined.

“Good. Thank you. Tugger?” Quaxo asked gently, “Are you okay to guard her?”

Tugger’s fur was on end and his pupils were huge, but he answered unwaveringly. “I’ll protect her, but what about you?”

Jemima also turned to Quaxo, eyes full of concern.

Quaxo put one paw on the sides of each of their faces. “Don’t worry about me. With you two helping I can do anything.” He smiled and pulled away. “Besides, Jemima is right; the ones in the house don’t seem to be hostile. I bet they’re just confused.”

Tugger gave him a dubious look.

Quaxo’s smile waned. “Well, we’ve stalled long enough. I’ll open the door, you two clear a path for me, okay?”

Jemima nodded. “I’m ready!”

“Thank you both,” said Quaxo. “Now let’s end this.” He pushed open the door.

Tugger and Jemima darted through together.

Quaxo swiftly followed, grinning with pride as drawers and cupboard doors began rattling one after the other. “Fantastic, Jemima! Keep it up!”

The zombies shambled to the edges of the kitchen, drawn to the sounds.

Jemima and Tugger hunkered next to the pantry, both on guard, though no zombies made a move towards them.

Quaxo reached the circle untouched, and the spoons from earlier lifted from the ground and hovered around him like a barrier. Satisfied the plan was working for now, he tried to concentrate.

The circle glowed.

Quaxo closed his eyes and recited the spell as loudly as he could.

Just as before, an almost overpowering wave of magic emanated from the circle. All the lights in the house, and possibly the nearby houses, went out.

When the wave finally broke, Quaxo opened his eyes. The sparks faded from his fur and he wobbled, but remained on his feet.

The lights flickered back on, revealing the former zombies lying motionless on the floor.

Jemima’s eyes lost their eerie glow as the drawers and cupboards stopped rattling. She too wavered slightly, and braced herself against the wall. She had never used that much power on purpose before.

“Is it over?” Tugger asked, crouched near a recently undead mouse, ready to grab Jemima and spring away at any second. Or possibly faint again.

Quaxo reached out a paw and gingerly poked the robin in front of him. It stayed dead.

“…I think so.” Quaxo said, sagging with relief. He smiled broadly at the other two. “We did it!”

“That was _wicked!_ ” Jemima cheered.

Tugger bounded over to Quaxo and hugged him. He enthusiastically nuzzled his face, then pulled back abruptly. “Wait, I’m mad at you.” He didn’t let go.

Quaxo laughed, letting his head fall forward into Tugger's mane.

Jemima laughed too, joining the hug.

Tugger looked from one to the other, baffled, then looked at the corpses littered around the kitchen. “I hope you don’t expect me to help clean all this up.”

———

Again, Tugger and Quaxo were awakened by Munkustrap knocking on the door.

Tugger reluctantly untucked himself from Quaxo’s chest.

Quaxo glanced at him nervously as they both stood up.

Tugger faced the door, resolute.

“Daddy!” Jemima reached the door first, and let Munkustrap inside.

“Jemstone!” Munkustrap picked her up and spun her around. “Did you have a good time?”

“Yeah!” Jemima exclaimed as Munkustrap set her down again. “I can levitate three spoons at once! _And_ I can rattle doors without touching them!”

“That’s amazing, Jemima!” Munkustrap praised.

“Hey, Munk,” greeted Tugger.

“Good morning, Munkustrap. Did you have a nice night?” said Quaxo, overly polite.

“I did, thank you. Did everything go well here?”

“It was…eventful.” Tugger volunteered.

“So I gathered.” Munkustrap gestured to the door. “Why did you three dig up your yard?”

“Well…” Quaxo began guiltily.

“They zombified every dead animal in the woods,” Tugger betrayed, pointing at Quaxo and Jemima like a child.

“ _What?_ ” Munkustrap crouched, checking Jemima for injuries.

“I’m really sorry, I know you trusted us to protect her and I was going to tell you-” Quaxo rapidly apologized.

“Your daughter is scary and, really, you put the idea in her head so this is partially your fault-” Tugger babbled at the same time.

“Stop.” Munkustrap stood up, satisfied Jemima was unharmed. “Quaxo. What’s the one thing I asked you not to do while watching Jemima.”

“…Raise the dead.”

“And what did you do?”

“Raised the dead.” Quaxo and Jemima admitted together.

Munkustrap pinched the bridge of his nose. “I really don’t know what I expected.”

“We’re okay daddy; the zombies mostly ignored us once they got in the house,” said Jemima unhelpfully.

“They were in the _house?_ ”

“It was like an adventure!” Jemima insisted. “The scariest part was when Uncle Tugger fainted.”

“What!”

“Hey!”

“You told on me; I’m telling on you.”

Quaxo had the good grace to look ashamed. He rubbed Tugger’s back soothingly.

“Are _you_ all right, Tugger?”

“I’m _fine, dad,_ ” Tugger sputtered.

Munkustrap nodded. “Good. You know what this means though,” he addressed Quaxo. “No magic lessons for…let’s say a month. Unless she accidentally causes something to explode again.”

“I think that’s more than fair,” Quaxo agreed.

“Am I grounded?” Jemima asked.

“No,” said Munkustrap, caught off-guard.

“Are you punishing Uncle Quaxo, then?”

Quaxo blinked. _Uncle_.

Tugger nudged him playfully.

“Because it was my idea,” Jemima continued while this went on.

Munkustrap softened. “You’re such a good kit, Jemstone. It was your idea, but Quaxo is an adult and should have known better, do you understand?”

Jemima nodded solemnly. “Can I still visit them?”

“Of course you can,” Munkustrap assured. “But only at the junkyard, for a while.”

Tugger felt conflicted.

Quaxo grimaced. “Sorry, Jemima. Munkustrap, I’m sorry I let you down.”

Munkustrap sighed. “She’s still in one piece. I’ll allow you that.” He paused, visibly deliberating something, then said, “And…if she was going to be with anyone when zombies attacked, I’m glad it was you.”

“They didn’t attack-” Jemima tried to interrupt.

“I would just prefer it if you weren’t also the _source_ of the zombies,” Munkustrap concluded.

Quaxo scratched his ear awkwardly, equally touched and chastised. “I don’t intend to do that again, believe me.”

“I should hope not.” They stood in uncomfortable silence for a moment until Munkustrap gave in and continued. “Right, then. Jemima, say goodbye. It’s time to go home.”

Jemima ran over and hugged her uncles. They hugged her back tightly as they all traded goodbyes.

Munkustrap left first and held the door open for Jemima. He nodded at Tugger and Quaxo as she jumped through.

Jemima turned back and waved, then the door dropped shut and she and her father were gone.

Quaxo drooped. “Well, that could have gone better.”

“Could’ve been worse, _Uncle_ Quaxo.” Tugger nudged him again. When Quaxo gave him an incredulous stare he elaborated, “Munkustrap could have been mad at _me_.”

Quaxo chuckled and rolled his eyes affectionately. “ _You’re_ in a good mood all of a sudden.”

“Honestly? Being present for Munkustrap’s legendary disappointment when it’s not aimed at _me_ for once was kind of nice. Weird, but nice.” He smirked at Quaxo. “I’m only almost sorry it was you taking the force of it.”

Quaxo smiled more easily now. “All right, I deserved that.”

Tugger grinned and kissed him. “Come on, our humans will be home soon. We have to convince them we didn’t destroy the yard.”

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Halloween!


End file.
